


Overprotective

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [9]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Jack's protective, M/M, Spot is sort of an asshole and Race is upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Jack can be over protective when is comes to the other newsies. Brooklyn does Race wrong and Jack has to fix it





	Overprotective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomedayonBroadway](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SomedayonBroadway).



> Had some writers block but I finally finished it, hope you guys like it!!

Race spent an awful lot of time in Brooklyn.

Jack hadn’t really taken notice for the first couple weeks, he sold in Sheepshead, so he was out there a lot anyway. But lately he’d been staying out till 10 or 11, coming back and passing out before Jack could ask any questions.

So, when Race stumbled into the lodging house on at midnight on a Tuesday, Jack was understandably pissed.

“Nope, you’re not goin’ to bed.”

Race growled when Jack grabbed his collar and dragged him back up. “We gotta be up in six hours Jack, lemme sleep.”

Several groans echoed from a few of the other guys who were trying to do just that, and Jack raked a hand through his hair before taking Race’s arm and dragging him up towards the roof.

“C’mon Jack-”

“Shut it, everyone else’s tryin’ to sleep.”

Race mumbled something about sleeping as Jack pushed him towards the rusted ladder to the roof. 

“Okay, cut the shit, what’s with you and Brooklyn lately?”

It was dark enough that Jack barely caught the look of surprise on Race’s face. Surprise and something else like embarrassment but that didn’t make any sense to Jack.

“It’s-” he looked like he was trying to come up with a lie on the spot, which they both knew he was shit at. “-Fuck, I just, I sell there Jack, I’m always there.”

Jack snorted. “Not till midnight Racer.”

He was really thrown off, it wasn’t like Race to be like this, with him at least. “C’mon, I ain’t gonna be mad.”

“Bullshit.”

When Jack stayed silent Race chewed on his lip and looked up at him. “Fine, I’ve been hangin’ around with Spot Conlon a bit okay? Didn’t want to tell you cause I figured you’d be pissed.”

Jack frowned. “I ain’t mad, I’m sort surprised he’s not kicking your ass is all, scary guy.”

“He ain’t that bad.”

Jack could have sworn he saw Race bite back a smile at that, but he let it go for now. Race was acting weird, but as long as was with with Spot and not getting the shit beat out of him, he was probably safe. As much as he didn’t care for Spot, he knew how to run his newsies, if Race was good with him he was good in Brooklyn.

“Just try and get back before 10 okay? Romeo gets worried without ya.” He added the last part to perk Race up, which worked, and he shoved at Race’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.”

“Thanks Jack.”

He stayed up for a little while after Race went back into the lodge. He had a weird feeling about Spot and Race hanging around together, he didn’t like any of the newsies going over to Brooklyn very much.

At least now he knew who’s ass to kick if Race ever came back fucked up.

* * *

 

“Nice hickey Race!”

“Damn, Brooklyn’s treatin’ ya nice huh Higgins?”

Race snapped out a few curses before pulling up his collar and walking over to Jack, who was smirking pretty big from where he laying on his bed.

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

Race sat down heavily next to Jack and started taking off his shoes. He kicked them off with a little more force than necessary and turned to Jack. “Imma stay in Brooklyn tomorrow night, supposed to storm before dark.”

Jack cracked each of his knuckles and stared at the floor for a minute before responding. “You usually finish selling early enough, why you wanna stay over there?”

Race was clawing at his nail and Jack thought he could see blood starting to well up from the corner. Kid definitely had a girl in Brooklyn or something, he didn’t really think they were his style, but a guy could be wrong.

“Cause I got plans.”

“With who?”

At Race’s shrug Jack kicked his thigh. “Hey c’mon, you coulda just said you had a girl over there.”

He didn’t even try to understand the look Race shot him before standing up and climbing up to his own bunk, without a word.

Usually Jack could tell what he’d done to piss Race off, he did it often enough, but he really had no idea. They all talked about having girls in the city, granted most of them were lying, but still, it wasn’t a big deal.

“I don’t got a fucking girl over there,” Race snapped from above him. The bed creaked and Race didn’t say anything else.

Neither did Jack, he was too tired and Race could take care of himself doing whatever the hell he was doing in Brooklyn. He was probably just playing poker with Spot’s boys, he made damn good money doing that, they must of had a game planned or something.

Jack rolled over and let it go, he had to be up in a few hours anyway.

* * *

 

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

A snarl echoed through the hall and several heads turned to see Race enter the room. Jack had never been into that whole ‘if looks could kill’ thing, but fuck, the look Race shot the entire room sent twenty newsboys’ heads snapping back to what they were previously doing  _ so fast _ .

The usual hint of apology when Race acted like an ass wasn’t there either, and it took Jack a few seconds to remember that Race wasn’t even supposed to be here, he was spending the night in Brooklyn.

Fucking Brooklyn.

The air stirred as Race walked over to their bunk, eyes downcast and fists clenched he climbed up onto his bed without a word.

He really would have left it alone. If he hadn’t known where Race had been when he got pissed like this, the bed would have been left alone while he cooled off.

But nope. Not now. Now someone besides his own idiot newsies was involved and he couldn’t let that go, never had been able to. They were his boys and nobody fucked with them outside of this room, this city, this borough.

Romeo raised his eyebrows from the next bed when Jack stood up, but he didn’t say anything, kid was too smart for that.

Tentatively, he climbed to the top bunk and settled down at the end of the mattress opposite Race. No acknowledgement .

“So?” Jack asked after a few minutes of silence. He’d noticed that more than a few of the other newsies had left, not wanting to be involved in whatever storm was coming.

Race mumbled something incoherent.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I  _ said _ ,” Race snapped, “Fuck  _ off. _ ” He looked up at Jack and he could actually feel the wave of anger hit him. It didn’t look like he’d gotten hurt or anything, but he could see in his eyes that someone had fucked him over, bad.

“No.”

“Jack, I’m not in the-” 

“I don’t care if you're not,” Jack said, “What happened? Why’re you back from Brooklyn?”

Race cast his eyes down and Jack waited. He tried his best to keep a neutral look on the outside but he was screaming on the inside. This is what he got for trusting Brooklyn with any of his boys, this is what he got for trusting Spot Conlon.

Race coughed and Jack could hear the whimper that it was trying to cover up and when Race looked up he could have sworn he saw tears in the corner of his eyes.

Another cough. “It wasn’t shit, I did something stupid and kicked out, happens all the time.”

Jack knew better than to ask what Race did, that would come in its own time, but it was past dark and Spot Conlon or no, he shouldn’t be out in Brooklyn at night. “Who kicked ya out?”

His voice was tight with anger now and Race could tell why now. “Spot, but Jack it’s really not a big deal you don’t have ta-”

Jack was off the bunk and halfway to the door before Race got the rest out. Anything could have happened to him over there and that blood would’ve been on Spot’s hands.

He deserved a fucking visit.

* * *

 

The hostility was tangible when Jack threw open the door to the Brooklyn lodge house. If he wasn’t as pissed as he was, he might have been put off by the stares and the several guys who were now standing with their hands balling into fists as he walked toward Spot.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snapped, face within a foot of Spot’s and very aware of the fact that he had the guy with his back against the wall. 

Breath on his neck and a snarl from behind him kept him from launching himself at the guy who looked like he had all the time in the goddamn world. If he knew any better he would’ve thought he could see a hint of regret in Spot’s eyes before they flicked back to their usual masked state.

“Do ya need something Jack?”

A hand grabbed his collar as he took another step forward and Spot’s eyes looked over his shoulder. “It’s fine Carver, leave 'im alone.”

The hand let go and Jack felt someone step back behind him, refusing to look back because there was no way he was breaking eye contact with Spot right now. 

“Let’s talk upstairs, okay Kelly?” Spot said, it was phrased as a question but he wasn’t asking, his eyes gave away that much. 

If they’d been alone Spot looked like he might have dragged him upstairs, might have been more desperate, but they weren’t alone, and he was saving face.

“Fine,” Jack said tightly. Footsteps echoing through the now dead silent room as he was led to a set of stairs. A part of him wanted to round on Spot as soon as the door shut behind him, but he didn’t. He’d be able to get a few good punches in if he waited till they got upstairs anyway.

Finally, they got into the bunk room and Jack turned on Spot. A beat of hesitation actually passed before he said anything because Spot had gone from having a look of veiled confidence to  _ broken _ in less than a minute.

He thought of Race though and kept going. “You sent Race back to Manhattan in the middle of the fucking night,  _ alone _ ? Are you kidding me?”

“Jack, I-”

“He looked like someone had just shot his mother when he got back, not that you care, and you can’t do that to any of my boys Spot-”

“I know-”

Jack didn’t care if Spot sounded more desperate every time he tried to cut in, he kept going. “I don’t know what he did to piss you off so much, but I swear on my goddamn life I’ll soak you if he  _ ever _ comes back like that again.”

He hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Spot until he allowed himself to take a step back. Spot had his back pressed firmly into the wall and his nails dug into his palms. If he passed Spot like he was now on the street he wouldn’t have recognized him, he looked  _ small _ .

Jack’s let his balled fists relax once he could hear the ragged breathing coming from the boy.

“I fucked up Jack.” 

Again, not a question. Which, as an admission of defeat, was odd, and Jack stayed quiet. His arms were crossed and he was still angry but this whole thing was messy and he didn’t think yelling would help. “Okay.”

Spot glanced up for a seconds. “I shouldn’ta kicked him out, had no reason to.” His jaw tightened for a half second. “Lemme fix it, okay?”

The curtness was expected. Even with something like this Spot wasn’t one to pour his heart out, and Jack figured he wasn’t getting much more than that. The silence served as a confirmation. He didn’t need to fuck with Spot anymore, only trouble could come from that.

“Okay.”

They spit, shook hands, and that was it. Not another word before Jack was led back down the stairs and out of the building full of hostile Brooklyn newsboys and out on the street.

He couldn’t help but think that Race had been here a few hours ago, alone without the look from Spot that told him he’d get across the bridge fine. 

And that made him walk a bit faster, because Race had had to do that, and if Race did it, he’d do the same.

* * *

 

The next day when Jack bought his papes with a yawn and a glare directed at Weisel, he was looking for Race. He spent a good two minutes before he started to get worried, kid had been out cold when he got back and he had a tendency to do stupid shit when he was upset. 

He knew he was still upset.

So, he left his papes with Davey and Les with a promise to be right back and started ducking his head in alleys up and down the block.

About three alleyways in he found him. And Spot. Pressed up against each other and against a wall with legs and arms tangled together. 

Jack just smiled and walked back for his papes. They’d figured their shit out and he didn’t care what form they did it in.

**Author's Note:**

> SomedayonBroadway gave this prompt and I tried to run with it??
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed, leave kudos/comments if you did!!


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